The Berserker

Chapter 28

There was always a trail. No matter how hard someone tried to leave no trace behind, there was a trail. Cops couldn't find them sometimes because they weren't allowed to go into the underbelly of the darkest places.

I had no such troubles.

There were a couple of ways to find what I wanted, while ensuring other objectives were met. Money in the underworld was currency and language, so a few thousand dollars later and some bruised knuckles, I'm sitting across a man who founded CUT. At least part of how it operated.

Admittedly, I wasn't expecting him to be alive.

In his mid-seventies, Stephen Tuck was unassuming as they came. Age spots, wrinkles, a kind smile and eyes, balding white hair, whiter straight row of teeth and a crooked nose. I wouldn't have spared the old man a second glance if his missing arm was present.

"Ugly, isn't it?" Thin lips pulled into a thinner smile, making me wonder for a moment if he truly had a mouth for a second. He shrugged the shoulder, the cut appendage moving stiffly. "Got caught in the blast of an IED. Lucky to be alive."

The cold look in his eyes said otherwise; he rather be dead right now. This was round three of our interrogation, and he was about to break. I gave a small smile although I knew the mask hid it. Its weight pressed heavily on my forehead and nose, only holes available for eyes and nose. Frankly, it reminded me of a muzzle, and I was tempted to rip it off, but first, a job had to be done.

"War is ugly." My voice crackled through the voice changer. "That's why CUT was formed, no?"

Stephen Tuck nodded, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Yes...I was a fool back then. Hopelessly naive. We needed more soldiers. More defenses. But, we had none. At least, not trained enough for the wars I foreshadowed." He held up a finger, eyeing me with amusement. "You see though, there's not much money can't buy, or a deal can always be struck."

"The Russians," I added, drumming my gloved fingers on my knee.

"Yes, the Russians." Tuck's smile turned into a grimace. "Like I said, a fool I was. Got the funding I needed, but then I owed them. They started sending in their soldiers, the demands getting higher and higher."

His wrinkled hand rose animatedly in the air.

"Until they sent children."

My drumming stopped. "Children?"

"Oh yes." Bobbing his head like a bird, Tuck continued, "I had asked for invisible agents, weapons that could stop the worlds worst kind of threats. I thought it was a joke of a sort. But then, they stopped attacks in the city, easily integrated into society, the perfect sleeper agents. No one suspected a thing. Robotic little trained machines possessing the same experience if not more than the average soldier."

There was a brief pause of silence, the air filled with the hum of electricity.

"CUT was supposed to be that. Discreetly removing the traitors and vile beings who destroyed the peace. So the exchange of children, orphans mainly, happened. And it flourished. Life better for everyone."

I refrained from growling. Instead, my response was bored and cool.

"Ironic, using children as soldiers when your country claims that they are the future in need of protection. But, what makes the ends meet."

Tuck swallowed. "Yes, well. That's where I disagreed. My partner on the other hand was enthralled by it." His laughter was thick and forced, pushing against the weight of his words. "I got sick of it...sending those kids off only to see their soulless eyes later."